


Redneck Romance

by ImprobabilityMachine



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Canon-Typical Behavior, Fluffy?, Ignoring gun safety, M/M, Underage Drinking, Violent undertones, mild homophobia, short n fluffy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-07
Updated: 2019-06-07
Packaged: 2020-04-12 02:07:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19122412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImprobabilityMachine/pseuds/ImprobabilityMachine
Summary: Based on a prompt. Henry and Patrick go shooting.





	Redneck Romance

Oscar Bowers’ Glock was a magnificent beast, roaring mightily before it devoured the green tinted bottles, and turned them to glittering dust. Even though it was in Henry’s hands - subject to his will, and his will alone - the blond flinched every time he pressed the trigger. He thought it was subtle - it wasn't. Patrick saw every last one.

Patrick sipped on a can of lukewarm Budweiser, and made a happy humming noise every time a target fell “dead.” Henry had insisted on bottles for targets, but Patrick’s mind was on the contents of the Bowers’ kitchen. He had plans to make a fruit salad using only bullets, he just had to convince Henry that his old man wouldn’t notice. Tomatoes would be especially pleasing. To see them explode - their guts, red and enticing, strewn about the lawn - was so deliriously close to what he really wanted to see, he had practically begged Henry to let him. But that might've been too much for Patrick to contain himself. 

He was already having a hard enough time watching the way the soft fleshy bits of Henry's arms rippled with the recoil. It was like watching a pebble strike the river, sending the water running in soft silky waves; or like diving onto a waterbed, the rubber moving intimately with the water, shaken by the violence forced upon it. Patrick wanted to wrap his arms around Henry, and to feel every tremble of as his fear tried to escape, his mortal body wracked by the power of the gun.

But Henry wouldn't like that very much. Not when they were in the open like this. So Patrick sat back and watched, content with his fantasies.

“That one was dead center, swear to God!” Henry yelled, pointing at a particularly satisfying pile of glass.

He held out the gun for Patrick, who immediately targeted some birds and started firing wildly at them. He hooted and laughed, his voice echoing between the barn and homestead. Henry would’ve told anyone else to stop, but it was moments like these where Patrick started to come alive. His eyes so sharp in their focus, the green in them sparkled. He smiled now, wide and wild; but that would soon fall away, when Patrick forgot he had an audience, and his jaw would set. Henry would see the man Patrick would become - and it was lovely, and strange.

So he said nothing, and hoped, in secret, that if any stray bullets found a target, they might take out a few of Derry’s resident assholes - like his dad. Or the little shits.

Henry finished off Patrick's beer and cracked open a new can.

“I heard they use watermelons in movies when they need to explode a head,” Patrick said, giving Henry a coy look. But he was not budging. He planned on holding out until Patrick was begging him.

“I already told you no, fucknuts. Ask again and you’ll be the next target.”

Patrick grinned, and Henry shivered. “Ooh! You could shoot my leg–”

“Jesus Christ, just aim for the fucking bottles!”

Quick as a flash, Patrick leaned over to give Henry’s cheek a little kiss. It was nothing more than the same chaste smack Henry gave his grandma, but it was more than they dared in the sunlight. Henry looked around, feeling like someone painted him rainbow and was screaming “Come look at these flamers!” It didn’t fully disappear when he confirmed they were completely alone, but he felt a sort of warmth filling up his belly where the fear was receding. Maybe it was love.

Patrick went back to shooting, giggling; Henry hid a smile behind chugging his drink.

“You're going to give in eventually," Patrick teased in a sing-song voice.

Henry knew Patrick wasn't wrong. But for now, it was a game of wills, and he didn't plan on losing.


End file.
